Never Again

I'm never cutting my hair again. Ever. I mean, I'm never letting someone else cut my hair again. Ever.

The fault apparently doesn't lie in the hairdresser but in the person who tells the stylist how she wants her hair cut. I went to a new hairstylist who cut my hair EXACTLY the same as the last gal-terribly uneven, I-hate-the-way-it-won't-lay-in cut. Only the layers are a full 2-3 inches shorter.

I'm afraid if I let someone else cut my hair, I will soon be bald. I like having hair. I don't get it. I showed her a picture of my favorite cut. A photo of myself, my hair-I know it is possible. This is not it.

Sigh.

And why does the hairdresser think she knows my hair better than I do? I really do want at least 3 different colors in it. I NEED that many to make it work. But she always think I'm a bit dramatic or haven't used the wonderful color products she has that can do the trick without the extra work mixing, etc. And then she is always surprised when she doesn't get the right result the first time and then has to fix it. And it still isn't the same as if she'd done what I asked.

I know I told her my hair had been badly cut and I merely wanted the tiniest trim to just even it a bit. When I saw 2 & 3 inch pieces flying, I questioned her. She said she was just making it even. I forgot to mention I didn't want short layers that were even with my bangs. I want my bangs to feel special and unique, having their own personal length.

Sigh.

I'll try not to post about my hair again.

Weird

I was on my way out the door, and as usual, I glanced in the mirror. Something didn't look quite right. I ran a brush through my hair, sprayed and fluffed it, then looked again. Hmmm...somehow I looked, well...different. I was having a good hair day. Finally.

Maybe my bangs were a tad long, making my eyes look dull. Or I am just tired from waking up so early. Oh well, no time to dwell on it. I had errands to run, appointments to make.

After returning home, I caught sight of myself in the mirror again. That's weird. I still looked off. My eyeliner seemed smudged and worn off. But that happens towards the end of every day. It must be that one of the bulbs is out in the bathroom. I need to run up to Home Depot and get a new one. There special, fancy bulbs that are too expensive to keep on hand. So I buy them as they go out.

And for some reason, standing in the bathroom, it hit me. I'd only applied mascara to one eye this morning. No wonder I looked weird.

(To many, you may wonder what the big deal is. You have probably never seen me without makeup. LOL. Seriously. And to walk around looking goofy with makeup on one eye and not the other truly looks wacky.)

September

I don't think I've ever been this excited to see September roll around. No, I haven't secretly become a morning person. Getting up at 6:00 a.m. does not thrill me. It's just that the month of August was an emotional rollercoaster around here. We couldn't take much more and have been banking on the hope that August was just a miserable month and September will be filled with fresh, new, positive adventure.

Is that too much to ask?

And since I was unsuccessful in my attempt at becoming a thinner, more active, ready-for-the-beach-trip-October in August, today begins new hope for making this happen. Because now I have nearly half the time to do it.

September, don't let me down.

Family

Whoever thought up the idea of family was a genius. Oh wait, that was God. No wonder it is an amazing ensemble of gifted people! I have the best family in all of the world.

Parents who are extremely encouraging, who pray and take time to listen and offer their support & wisdom to their grandkids. One who will email back and forth to discuss college plans that have gone awry; send a card or note filled with love.

Brother-in-laws who come to visit and bless us with their skills. Whether it's a car repairs, tiling a floor, buying a kite for Ethan, or entertaining us with their sense of humor, they are generous, kindhearted men.

Kids that support one another, who are willing to drive an hour and a half just because they don't want the other to be alone in a difficult time.

A daughter-in-law who fits so well in the family and brings joy to my son.

I could go on and on listing what a blessing family is. Whether born, adopted, or married into a family these relationships make life so much richer. Of course, just because we are related doesn't mean we don't have misunderstandings, hurt feelings, or issues. But BECAUSE we are family, we work through our differences. It is where we learn to grow & give.

But the bigger picture of family, points us back to God. I find it interesting that when one becomes a Christian, he joins the family of God. The bible describes it different way: He has adopted us as His children, we are born-again, we become the bride of Christ. The three ways we become part of a family.

Sadly, culture today doesn't value family as the one place we support, accept, & love one another. Families are broken, merged, blended, & split again-losing all sense of the loved ones who will always be there for you. Family was created to stand united.

Thank-you to my family for all you are, for loving, giving, sharing, & standing strong. Life wouldn't be the same without you.

Gotta love mobile blogging

Tuesday Trials & Triumphs

Trials:
Transitioning from sleeping in to getting up at 6 a.m.
Teary-eyed teens and adult children with trying times of their own.
Fiscal Flops & Failures, Financial Fiascoes

Triumphs:
I attempted to list these and realize I need some work in this area. Maybe I'll list my triumphs tomorrow. I better get busy.

Refreshing

"As cold waters to a thirsty soul, so is good news from a far country."
Proverbs 25:25

A New Day

I've stood in this line many times. Today was different. This is the last time I will manuever my way through the school cafeteria for back-to-school registration.

I thought back to the first registration at D'School. The year was 1994, D'School's first year of existence. Created as a Junior/Senior High School, it began with 3 grades. Christina started her 8th grade year at this brand new school.

The building itself was not new. In fact, a friend of mine remarked that she attended junior high school at this very location with fond memories. I was a tad younger then, 32. A mere 20 years earlier and I was in junior high. Standing in line, preparing my oldest for her soon-to-be high school career, I felt much older.

At registration I wasn't asked for my cell phone number or email address. There wasn't a required internet permission slip to sign. I did give consent to allow the school to administer Tylenol if my child needed it. Parking passes were also non-existent. None of the students were old enough to drive. D'School started with grades, 7-9 and added a grade each year.

Today, as I registered Hilary for her senior year of high school, I reflected much. She stood alongside me in 1994 when I signed Christina up for D'School. She was a cute, bouncy 2 year old who knew how to embarrass her big sister. It was in 8th grade that Christina began to wish her 4 younger siblings & mother didn't trail her everywhere she went. Hilary and I stood alone. Actually, I went through the procession alone. Hilary popped in to get her schedule and school I.D., but had to run back out to football practice. I was left watching nervous 7th graders texting friends their schedules and reflecting on the past 15 years at D'School. I even heard talk that next year registration will be completed online. Some parents may never step onto school property.

I miss the day I could walk into the school, dragging my preschoolers behind me, knocking on the classroom door, handing Christina her lunch and then hearing about how I humiliated her for the next 20 years. Have a great senior year, Hilary.

Broken

Thankfully, I'm not the one broken. But my computer is. Not sure when I'll be back online. It's not easy posting from a borrowed computer. My cell phone, computer...I'm a little weary of technology and how easily things go awry or break. And please don't tell me bad things come in 3's. (Because it is really dozens.)

Even a fool...

Sorry I've been absent. It isn't like I haven't sat at the computer every single day and started a post. I have. So what has kept me quiet? Some things are better left unsaid. I'll show you what I mean.

1) A certain, selfish someone that I'm so angry with I want to slap some sense into him. (Nobody in my family. Gosh, I could never be that mad at my flesh and blood.)

"There is one who speaks like the piercings of a sword, But the tongue of the wise promotes health." Proverbs 12:18

2) Life changes and decisions that wouldn't be flung out in a casual conversation so why would I flip them out here?

"A fool vents all his feelings, But a wise man holds them back." Proverbs 29:11

3) When I am waiting on an answer from the Lord, it is often best not to seek the advice of others. Too many voices can be confusing. (Sometimes getting wise counsel is the best. "Where there is no counsel, the people fall; But in the multitude of counselors there is safety." Prov.11:14)

"My soul, wait silently for God alone, For my expectation is from Him." Psalm 62:5

Even a fool is counted wise when he holds his peace; When he shuts his lips, he is considered perceptive. Proverbs 17:28

What To Do About Cravings

It is 11:45 p.m. I want M&M's, the peanut kind. I'd like them now.

But I don't have any. Michael is sleeping. Nobody else is home. My choices are:

1) I can resist the chocolate craving by going to bed.

2) Hop in the car, run to the store & buy some.

3) Keep browsing the internet, in hopes that I forget how good Peanut M&M's taste.

4) Call each of my kids to see if they are near a store and on their way home.

5) Tough it out.

Hmm...what to do...I think I will just go to bed.

Um...no, I think I will run to the store. Oh wait, I'm having a bad hair day. I might run into someone I know.

Silly. Nobody is going to be at the grocery store right now. Well, except for axe murders and the like.

Where is everyone???? I just need one other person to come along and I would feel so much better. Hey, that gives me an idea. I will take my camera along and in essence take my faithful readers with me. Ok, here goes. (Too bad I can't use my cell phone and send photos directly to my blog. But the memory card died while I was making memories meandering in Mesa's hotter than heck heat.)

I know it is dark outside, but let's get going! (Be back soon)

A New Day

Good Morning! I'm up before the sunrise today. Anyone who knows me, understands that I am not a cheerful, perky morning person. During the summer, I sleep in...every, single morning. Today I woke up at 4:30 a.m. I laid in bed for over an hour, thinking I'd fall back asleep. But it didn't happen. So here I am.

I forgot to make coffee yesterday. This mistake forced me to go downstairs to get my coffeemaker. I lost my footing on top step with a thud, bump, thump...not sure how many times my backside banged against the steps. Forget the coffee. My heart was racing plenty fast now to get my blood pumping. But I sure didn't feel like pulling myself up off the ground. I'm happy to say I sustained only a couple of rug burns and bruising. Sometimes I wish we had security cameras to capture our every move. I'm thinking I'd have some funny videos to watch.

And now I have to get myself together, to take my youngest to her court date. Yes, that traffic ticket she got. The one she lost and couldn't find, didn't remember what time she was supposed to be there. She waited until yesterday to call and find out it is this morning. I'd like to send her by herself, but her legal guardian is supposed to accompany her. That would be me.

Have a great day people.

What Was I Thinking...Bobblehead?

Or 5 dumb ideas that resulted in a bad 2 bad haircuts.)

Dumb Idea #1 Thinking that by growing my hair long, I could have my hair all one length. To me that meant the front length would be as long as the back.

(This was my hair in April.)

Dumb Idea #2 Believing that this could be achieved by cutting 2 inches off of the back, not 4.

(The sides are plenty long enough here in June to get a nice cut.)

Dumb Idea #3 Letting a girlfriend tell my hairdresser, over the phone, exactly how to cut my hair.


Dumb Idea #4 Not noticing that when she cut 4 inches off of the front and sides; thus having almost the same haircut I already had, except 4 inches shorter.

(I showed her this pic from 11/08, because it was on my phone. It was an attempt to show her a look that would work with an already mangled haircut.)

Dumb idea #5 Trusting the hairdresser to fix my hair. When she said she'd have to cut the back shorter, I told her no. Just even it up so the right side wasn't longer than the left. Somehow I didn't notice until she was finished that she'd cut 2 more inches off. Now the right side is shorter than the left.

Did I mention before that a bad haircut could mean a month of bad hair days?

I'm afraid this one will last longer. Here is my hair after I worked with it for over an hour. Hair this short shouldn't take an hour to fix.

I hate my hair right now.

Monday Morning

Monday morning makes me mindful of memories made meandering in Mesa.



Guitar gig going strong in Gilbert



Ethan & Ella entertaining each other


Never enough noise


Great Grandma giving good-bye hugs

My Brain Must Be Fried

Who in their right mind would trade this:

For this?

Hello? A 40 degree difference on Tuesday?

Thunk Thursday

We've had a lot of weather warnings scroll across the bottom of our television lately. They look like this:

Wow! Thunderstorms with deadly lightning? I've never seen the word deadly before lightning. This is quite a storm...until I realize that is not what it says.

Now we have to watch out for deadly "lighting."

Faithful Are The Wounds Of A Friend

He masquerades as a funny, little fellow. Brimming with helium and tied to a brightly colored ribbon, the balloon pretends to be a child's faithful friend. Mom knots the string to her child's wrist. Both are amused at the pleasure it brings. The balloon smiles down on its owner, bouncing and bobbing playfully. The child squeals with delight as she pulls her friend close and squeezes tightly. She laughs when the balloon boings back up to its watchful place.

Most toys, when forgotten, lay still and lifeless. But not so with Mr. Balloon. He dances and sways to attract the attention of others. A boy standing nearby notices. He too wants a leash wrapped around his arm and a pet balloon to walk. Mr. Balloon caught my attention on Saturday and I yielded to his friendly demeanor and glossy allure-a birthday balloon for my grandson.

Ethan played with Mr. Balloon until he opened his birthday presents. Megatron emerged as his new partner. Together they road in his truck, crawled in the tent, splashed in the sprinkler. But Mr. Balloon was undeterred. He hovered around the house all day. Desperate for attention he bumped & bobbled against the touch lamp; on, off, on, off...but to no avail. Ethan was out in the garage adding real gasoline to his battery powered truck. Mr. Balloon was finally successful after Ethan was dragged inside, showered off, and required to play indoors. He found the balloon dancing quietly in the corner.

Dinner was served outside, and the forever faithful friend was invited to eat with Ethan. He was tied to the chair so he could freely play in the wind. But Ethan kept untying him. Mr. Balloon was looking a little tired. His chest wasn't proudly puffed out anymore. Instead of bobbing quickly to the end of his string, he fluttered quietly beside the chair. I feared he was close to losing his floating ability. I watched as Ethan pulled loose the string. Mr. Balloon's bouncy bubbly self was slow in response.

But he's a tricky little fellow. Ever so slowly, he meandered to the edge of the deck. He lingered for just a moment, contemplating his next move. And then without looking back, he darted out. As fast as he's ever moved, he took flight. Over the houstop he went. Realizing his balloon was headed over the house, Ethan sprinted from his chair. Running as fast as he could, he made his way through the garage and onto the driveway. Words were spilling out of his mouth. His arms were pointing and signing towards Mr. Balloon, who was quickly becoming a speck in the sky.

"Ethan, the balloon is gone. I'm sorry. We can't get it back. Let's finish eating." Tears filled his eyes and spilled down his cheeks. He continued motioning with his hands and babbling as if to say we surely didn't understand that he wanted his balloon back. In those moments I'd give anything to know what Ethan was saying. I tried to think back to the times when my own children had balloons desert them.

"Will someone find my balloon?"
"Do you think another boy will play with it?"
"Maybe it will fly up to God and he will send it back."

I offered answers to words I couldn't grasp. But nothing I said could stop the alligator tears rolling down his face. I don't know how many times we dragged him back to the table, coaxing him to take one more bite. Over and over he ran to the front, in search of his friend.

Sometime after dinner, Ethan gathered Megatron and his other transformers. He set them up in the driveway. And then I saw him gesture. He pointed to the sky and his arms were signing. He spoke to them with words that only the toys could understand. I could only imagine. But I think he told them to never trust a balloon.

Crazy Weather

Notice anything strange about these trees?

They had leaves on them yesterday. The storm last night created an instant Autumn, except the leaves on the ground are all green. The temperature is only 64 degrees, down from yesterday's 94. That is part of what caused the problem. It was quite warm when the storm hit.

The trees are shredded and limbs broken off.

On Friday I Cried

Tears are usually reserved for special occasions. I don't let them flow for just any old thing. But I cried on Friday...in the middle of the grocery store.

Lately, my food shopping trips have been happy ones. The store has increased their gluten free foods selection. It is thrilling each time I find a new product. Recenly I found a delicious cake and frosting mix that not only is gluten free but also casein free. Imagine my excitement at being able to bake Ethan a birthday cake that he could both eat and enjoy.

When I set out to make it, I realized the cake mix called for margarine to keep it casein free. No problem. The margarine I've used for the last 25 years contains vegetable oil and not a dab of milk. Perfect. I needed 8 tablespoons. Peering into the tub, I maybe had enough to smear on a piece of bread, gluten free of course. Off the the grocers I went.

I looked up and down the aisle of butter and margarines. Hoping my Nucoa had just been moved, I continued to search for it. It was no where to be found. After a few inquiries to a clerk, then a manager, I was informed they no longer carried it. I stood there in shock. When did this happen? I still had the nearly empty container in my refrigerator.

This store stocks no less than 30 different types of butter and margarine. How could they get rid of the one single brand that was dairy-free??? The one and only kind I can use to make frosting for a very special 7 year old's birthday cake.

It wasn't like I could run over to the bakery and buy him a cake. They don't make or sell GFCF cakes. The clock read 3:00p.m. At 4, family would be arriving for the birthday celebration. What was I to do?

So like any caring, creative-thinking grandmother would do, I cried in the middle of KingSoopers.

Thunk Thursday

Another fine example of poor translations on imported products. This is from a lamp. Made in China.



In case you can't read the fine print:



I know a few women who'd like to find some of that Neuter soap.